


The Fallen

by silverynight



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Idiots in Love, M/M, Oblivious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Protective Crowley, aziraphale as a fallen angel but not really, crowley is jealous of himself because he's a dumbass
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2020-07-08 21:04:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19876066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverynight/pseuds/silverynight
Summary: According to Gabriel, it’ll take a couple of years for the Armageddon to start and an angel has to make sure everything goes according to plan. One of them has to go undercover as a new fallen and Aziraphale was the one chosen for that particular mission.It’s okay really, Aziraphale wants to, not because he wants to make sure everything happens, but because he wants to stop it. It’s against the rules, but since Gabriel told him Raphael had died recently, Aziraphale no longer cares about rules.





	1. Chapter 1

The girl is so young and not only in comparison to him, because Aziraphale is an angel, but in comparison to other humans. It’s his first time on Earth and he’s already fascinated with it, although neither Michael nor Gabriel have allowed him to actually enjoy it.

Well… That’s not actually what he came for, is it?

According to Gabriel, it’ll take a couple of years for the Armageddon to start and an angel has to make sure everything goes according to plan. One of them has to go undercover as a new fallen and Aziraphale was the one chosen for that particular mission.

It’s okay really, Aziraphale wants to, not because he wants to make sure everything happens, but because he wants to stop it. It’s against the rules, but since Gabriel told him Raphael had died recently, Aziraphale no longer cares about rules.

“Don’t bother looking for him down there, he’s dead… gone forever,” Gabriel had said. “You need to focus on the mission.”

Aziraphale cried for years when he found out and he cried even more because he couldn’t remember Raphael’s face; it was part of God’s punishment for the Fallen.

“Aziraphale, it’s really a pleasure to meet you,” the girl–the young woman says.

“How do you know my name?” Aziraphale asks, impressed. The woman, who introduces herself as Anathema, chuckles.

“I’m a witch and my ancestor, Agnes, knew basically everything,” she grins and takes Aziraphale by the arm, leading him to another room. Then she narrows her eyes at Michael and Gabriel and add: “You two can wait here.”

She hands him a bottle with a purple fluid that looks honestly disgusting.

“So… This will make me look like one of them?” Aziraphale asks, there’s no point in trying to hide things from her like Gabriel and Michael wanted to; she seems to know more than them anyway.

They’ve always underestimated humanity.

She pushes her glasses back and sighs, looking worried.

“It’ll turn your wings black,” Anathema explains. “Perhaps it’ll change a little bit your aura, but that’s it.”

Aziraphale keeps staring at the bottle and nods.

“I suppose that’s enough,” he mumbles. He would be a recently fallen angel after all; he knows it takes a couple of decades for the transformation to be completed.

He takes a deep breath, but Anathema stops him before he could take a sip.

“It’ll be painful, very much,” she warns. “Are you sure about this? Because they… the others don’t seem to care about–”

Aziraphale smiles at her and is once again reminded that his decision of giving away his sword was a good one. Humans are incredible and kind and sometimes it doesn’t matter if not all of them are that way, sometimes just a few is enough.

“Don’t worry about me, dear,” he mumbles, trying not to think about Raphael.

It must have been really painful for him.

“This cannot protect you from hellfire,” she whispers. “Be careful.”

“Thank you,” he says before drinking it all.

And she’s definitely right. It’s painful.

Aziraphale falls on his knees, trying not to scream as his wings feel like they’re bursting into flames. It hurts and the pain is making him tear up.

“Perhaps we should… We can stop it–Yes, I can. I have an antidote over–”

“It’s a-alright, dear,” Aziraphale gathers all his strength to get on his feet again; he’s never felt so tired before.

Is that what his Raphael felt? No, it must’ve been worse, since he fell for real.

“Are you ready?” Gabriel asks, both Michael and he have gotten into the room despite that Anathema told them not to.

“He needs to get some rest!” The young woman protests and Aziraphale grins at her courage because not any mortal would go against an angel’s will.

“There’s no time,” Michael frowns and Aziraphale puts a shaking hand over Anathema’s shoulder before she could say anything else.

“It’s alright, dear.”

“Let’s open a gate then,” Gabriel nods and stands at Aziraphale’s left side while Michael moves to the right.

They both miracle their swords in their hands, the famous swords that were used to fight Lucifer and Beelzebub long time ago.

Both swords hit the ground in the blink of an eye with ease, it’s like they’re cutting air.

“The effects will only last a month,” Anathema tells him as soon as the floor underneath him starts to glow. “You have to come back for more potion.”

Aziraphale nods, he can’t even say anything at the moment; everything hurts.

“Remember your mission,” Gabriel has to yell because the earth is cracking, it’s shaking and Anathema has to move away from them.

And then… he falls.

***

Hell is dark, but it’s not on fire like he thought. It’s also… weirdly cold despite of looking like a small basement where no one seems to have enough space.

Heaven has a lot of space; it seems empty and also cold and has always made Aziraphale sad. But that’s just because he thinks about Raphael a lot.

“A new Fallen?” Aziraphale has heard Beelzebub’s voice before, that’s the only reason he recognizes it.

He rises from the ground with difficulty; he can barely move his body and his wings still hurt. He’s not sure he can perform a miracle at the moment, even if he wanted to.

“It’s been… a while,” another voice comments.

“He still smells _good_ ,” says another demon and the rest of them make clear how disgusting that is.

If Aziraphale wasn’t so tired and hurt, he would’ve been outraged at the reaction.

“What’s your name, fallen?” Beelzebub asks, sounding more irritated than curious.

“Aziraphale?” It’s difficult to see when one has gotten used to the light of Heaven, but Aziraphale manages to see a tall figure getting closer. His voice sounds really soft when he says his name.

How does he know? Did his documents arrive already? Did Gabriel and Michael fake that too?

“Aziraphale is an angel’s name,” Beelzebub says with disgust. “You’ll be Fell from now on.”

“I still remember what it was to be a new fallen,” one demon says, amused; Aziraphale can’t see him yet because he’s behind him. “But I know this used to hurt a lot.”

He grabs one of his wings. Aziraphale groans in pain and almost falls to his knees again, prompting most of the demons to laugh.

Suddenly the hand on his wing is gone and he thanks God before hearing a loud noise and a groan.

“What do you think you’re doing, Crowley?”

“You’re pissing me off, Hastur, that’s the fucking problem, you always piss me off,” Crowley hisses and Aziraphale manages to see a little bit of red… The demon’s hair is red.

He’s tall and has the other one grabbed by the neck; it must be something usual among demons because Beelzebub just rolls their eyes.

“Enough! I don’t have time for this!” They huff, irritated. “Alright, what should we do with Fell?”

“I can take him!” The demon Crowley blurts out suddenly, getting closer to Aziraphale. Everyone in the room shuts up and glances back at him with curiosity. “I mean… Take him to Earth, that way you don’t have to see him… He still looks and smells like one of them and it’ll take a while for him to properly become one of us and if you keep him here…”

“You’re right,” Beelzebub nods, prompting Aziraphale to narrow his eyes.

What’s the problem with the way he smells? Is it really that awful? To him his scent is just like some of the flowers God created for Eden…

“Wait–” Hastur protests and Crowley hisses at him again.

“I don’t want to hear anything else,” Beelzebub huffs, already bored. They get up from their chair and growl at everyone else to go. “But I want him ready for Armageddon. Do you hear me, Crowley?”

“Of course,” the demon smirks and bows in a way that looks more like he’s mocking Beelzebub in Aziraphale’s opinion.

The prince of Hell doesn’t seem to mind though.

As soon as they’re alone, Crowley turns around and approaches Aziraphale.

The angel flinches away.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” the demon says, looking like Aziraphale just slapped him.

_You just grabbed someone by the throat_ , Aziraphale wants to point out, but he decides to keep quiet instead.

Crowley takes a step closer and the angel takes one back. He sighs, looking pale and defeated and takes off his sunglasses before staring at Aziraphale with his yellow eyes.

“I will never hurt you,” he mumbles and Aziraphale can see he’s being completely sincere when he says it. But why? “Come, we need to go back to Earth.”

Crowley offers his hand and Aziraphale can see he’s nervous. The angel realizes he doesn’t like seeing him like that so he does something risky, like he did in Eden when he gave away his flaming sword: he takes the demon’s hand.

There’s a huge smile on Crowley’s face and a hopeful glimmer in his eyes before he pulls Aziraphale to the surface.


	2. Chapter 2

“What do we do now?” Aziraphale asks, looking around; he knows they’re back on Earth (and frankly, he’s glad) although he’s still not sure if he should trust the demon next to him. He moves his hand away as soon as possible.

“Right now?” The demon smirks. “We find my car.”

“You drive?” It’s true that Aziraphale hasn’t been on Earth before, well, just a couple of times, but they all were brief visits. But that doesn’t mean he is an ignorant, he’s studied and kept an eye on humans. Because they’re kind of fascinating.

Raphael used to think the same.

“Yes!” Crowley leads him to a Bentley that Aziraphale must admit is kind of beautiful in its own way.

“But can’t you just miracle yourself anywhere you want?” Aziraphale quirks up one of his brows at him and the fact that he can actually guess the demon is rolling his eyes at him behind his sunglasses makes him smile for some reason.

“Yeah, but it’s not as fun,” Crowley insists, almost jumping inside his precious car and blurts out: “Get in, angel.”

Aziraphale sits in the passenger seat, puzzled. It seems Crowley hasn’t realized what he just said. Well, he hopes it’s not because the demon has just found out his secret.

“Why did you call me angel?”

Crowley freezes for a second and then starts driving as his cheeks turn completely red.

“Sorry… I–I don’t know, I just did. I suppose it’s because you still look like one of them,” he mumbles, although Aziraphale is not sure; he thinks there’s more he’s hiding from him, but he can’t be sure.

“I’m not one of them anymore,” he finally says and it’s weird that his words don’t sound at all like a lie to him. Perhaps it’s because he never felt quite like the others. No one seemed to truly understand him.

Except Raphael of course.

“Does it bother you?” Crowley asks after a while, looking a little bit shy.

“Well… not exactly. It’s just… someone used to call me that,” he smiles at the memory.

Crowley’s knuckles turn white as he grabs the wheel with more force than he should. His face is bright red at this point.

“A friend of yours from Heaven?” He asks, growing tense.

“I rather not talk about it,” Aziraphale breathes, even though it’s unnecessary, but he still feels like he has to in order to stop his voice from breaking.

“Right,” the demon says and after that there’s an uncomfortable silence that lasts until Aziraphale realizes Crowley likes to drive too fast… even for an immortal being like him.

“90 miles per hour! You’re gonna get us discorporated!”

That’s the moment a smile comes back on Crowley’s face; he turns to look at Aziraphale who shivers because that demon is not watching the road!

“Relax, angel. You’re with me, nothing is gonna happen to you,” he assures, looking straight ahead after Aziraphale almost begs him to.

The angel frowns at him, but realizes he’s not actually mad at that demon. Actually, it almost feels like he’s having fun.

It helps him forget the pain in his wings.

***

“Now let me see your wings,” Crowley says suddenly, making Aziraphale flinch.

He’s just getting used to the demon’s flat when he gets startled by his request; he still has the memory of Hastur touching one of his wings, the pain was terrible.

“I don’t think so,” he frowns at him.

Crowley takes his shades off and stares at him with yellow, snake-like eyes that are honestly beautiful.

“I know how to ease the pain, I know how to heal you; I’ve felt what you feel now. Let me help,” the demon looks vulnerable and almost desperate and even though part of him wants to believe him, Aziraphale can’t trust him completely, right?

He shakes his head.

Crowley sighs, looking tired and sad before he decides to put his sunglasses back on.

“Alright, I’m going to sleep.”

“But you don’t need to sleep,” Aziraphale protests, confused. It makes Crowley smile.

“But I like it.”

While Crowley sleeps Aziraphale decides to look for a place for himself; he can’t live with the demon, he could discover his secret if he spends too much time with him.

After a day he finds a place that looks promising and that’s for sale; he snaps his fingers to become the owner in seconds, making sure the former one received the sum he wanted for the place.

After a week he fills it with books and makes it look like it’s a bookshop, although if he’s honest with himself he has no plans to actually sell the books.

The pain in his back is getting worse (it seems ignoring his wings it’s not the right thing to do after all). He can barely move them and sometimes it feels like they’re still burning. He wonders if he should call Anathema to ask her about it.

“How long did I sleep?” Crowley walks into the bookshop with a smile on his face, he looks better than the last time Aziraphale saw him.

Although the thing that concerns him the most is the fact that the demon seems to be able to locate him quickly.

“A little bit more than a week,” Aziraphale mumbles in response and the demon looks around, impressed.

“This definitely looks like you,” he comments and the angel swallows the things he’s thinking before saying them.

_You can’t possibly know that, you don’t even know me_.

“Excuse me, but–” he groans when he tries to move quickly and Crowley is by his side in a second.

“The wings, right? Let me help you, Aziraphale,” he insists and the angel is shivering, thinking that it can’t get any worse when he finally nods.

Crowley helps him sit on the carpet and, a little bit reluctantly at first, Aziraphale turns his back on the demon, feeling exposed.

Another groan escapes from his lips when he makes his wings visible and he can almost hear the pain in Crowley’s voice when he speaks again.

“I know, angel. I know,” he whispers and he’s so soft when he does it Aziraphale remembers Raphael for a moment and he can’t help but sob. “It’ll be fine, I promise.”

It gets better, a lot better, when he feels Crowley blowing gently on his feathers and Aziraphale almost cries of relief when the pain starts fading away. The demon begins to touch, almost shyly, the angel’s wings and mumbling sweet words when he does it. He mentions how beautiful they are, how strong they look and Aziraphale is glad the demon can’t see his face at the moment because he’s blushing.

Aziraphale can’t help but think that he suffered exactly the same. Did he get the help of someone else? Or he waited until the pain was unbearable before he decided to take care of himself?

Either way, it’s terrible and just then it hits him again: Crowley was an angel once. It’s not like angels don’t know all demons were like them once, but sometimes they spend too much time trying to ignore it. It’s easier that way.

“Alright, now you should try to rest for–” Crowley gasps when Aziraphale turns around and hugs him. “Nghk… Why are y-you…”

“Thank you,” Aziraphale smiles when he feels the demon giving into the hug.

“You’re w-welcome. But never mention this to anyone, it’s not common for demons to help each other,” Crowley finally moves away, pushing his sunglasses up his nose, although it doesn’t hide the blush on his face at all.

Aziraphale, still grinning, blurts out: “Let’s have lunch!”

“It’s really late for lunch, angel,” Crowley comments, smiling back.

“Let’s have dinner then.”

“I’d like that.”


	3. Chapter 3

His bookshop is looking better now that he has added more books to his collection. Crowley even brings him books himself; it’s weird but he always manages to bring the ones Aziraphale ends up loving the most.

One day he says he has found a first edition of Oscar Wilde’s short stories and the angel reads everything in three days and the next time the demon walks in the shop Aziraphale pulls him into his arms and gives him a kiss on the cheek.

He can’t believe all the things he’s been missing for being in Heaven all the time; he should have offered himself to keep an eye on Earth himself earlier.

“Thank you so much, I loved it!” He says and realizes Crowley’s face is as red as his beautiful hair. “Are you alright?”

“Ngk!” The demon answers, although Aziraphale is getting used to it. “I–I mean I’m fine! Of–Of course I am! Also, you should stop doing these things, demons are not… _nice_ to each other.”

He hisses the word like it’s some kind of insult, which only makes Aziraphale roll his eyes.

“But you have been bringing me all these beautiful books…” He starts, moving away from the demon who grimaces like he’s in pain the moment the angel stops touching him.

“It’s just because I… find them (it’s not like I’m wasting my time looking for them just because you seem to love books) and I don’t know what to do with them, angel,” he blurts out, pushing his sunglasses up.

He calls him angel very often even though Aziraphale is a “fallen” now; he wonders if Crowley has started to get suspicious. No, he couldn’t know, could he?

“I’m still very grateful,” he smiles. “Will you bring me more? If you happen to find more of course…”

Crowley looks away and Aziraphale wonders if the way his cheek blush has something to do with being a demon.

“Yes, angel,” he mumbles, although this time is so soft, Aziraphale remembers when he was in Heaven, a long time ago, a time before the Garden was created.

“Thank you,” he repeats, trying to focus on something… anything else.

_Anathema_ , he suddenly reminds himself. He needs to see her again, it’s been almost a month since he took the potion.

Although he has to admit he doesn’t want to go through that kind of pain again.

***

“It’s great to see you again, my dear,” Aziraphale mumbles, walking into the witch’s cottage. It’s as warm and cozy as he remembers, although it’s just been a month since his last visit why would anything be different?

“I have no idea what’s so great about seeing me since it only means you’re gonna suffer… again,” she tells him; Aziraphale can tell how sorry she is and he immediately smiles, like every time he sees kindness in a human. She sighs and looks back at the potion. “I tried to make it less painful, but I couldn’t test it myself so I hope it works.”

Aziraphale nods and takes a deep breath before drinking the whole thing; it’s horrible, but he can’t hesitate now.

He kneels on the floor, trying to hold back a groan, but Anathema can see it written all over his face.

“I’m so sorry! I thought it was going to be different this–”

“It’s not as painful as the last time,” Aziraphale whispers, grimacing. It’s true, even though it doesn’t make much of a difference. He starts shaking and the girl gets closer to help him stand.

She guides him to her couch and Aziraphale feels so much better now that he’s sitting; last time he couldn’t even rest, the others sent him directly to Hell.

“You’re very kind,” he manages to say.

“And you’re different,” she comments, surprising the angel.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re different from the other angels… You’re good and nice,” Anathema mumbles, by her expression it looks like she doesn’t like the other angels she’s met before.

“All angels are good,” he whispers, but there’s doubt in his voice and he can’t even hide it.

She shakes her head, but doesn’t try to argue with him, instead she brings him a blanket and puts it over his shoulders.

“I’ll make you cocoa,” the witch mumbles and Aziraphale wonders for a moment how she knows it’s his favourite, but then he remembers that Agnes left her an entire book of prophecies.

“How did you feel that first time?” She mumbles after a couple of minutes; they’re sitting in front of each other with cups in their hands, but she’s drinking coffee. “Did it work? Well, I suppose it did since you’ve come back for more.”

“Yes, it worked,” Aziraphale grins, feeling as the pain is vanishing, although he knows his wings will still be sensitive for a couple of days. “Everyone down there thinks I’m a fallen. Crowley is really… Uhh…”

The angel stops himself suddenly, feeling his own grin on his face despite of the pain.

“Crowley?” She repeats, amused smile quirking up her lips.

“He’s a demon,” Aziraphale explains, trying not to look so happy at the mention of his name. He’s been really kind to him, but he must remember they’re on opposite sides. “He’s been… helping me.”

“I think Agnes mentioned something about a Crowley on her book,” she comments, still amused. “I am not sure, but I’ll look for his name and I’ll let you know.”

“It’s alright,” he says, trying to pretend he doesn’t care.

“So he’s helping you,” she insists and Aziraphale knows he’s made a mistake; he shouldn’t have mentioned his name at all.

“Yes, but it’s part of his job… I mean, he’s the one that must prepare me to be a demon,” Aziraphale keeps talking, wondering if bringing him books has something to do with that.

He feels guilty suddenly, like thinking about Crowley too much is somehow like betraying Raphael. But that’s ridiculous, because the relationship he had with the archangel was completely different.

He takes a deep breath and decides to make Anathema focus on something else instead.

He wonders if Crowley is tempting someone at the moment; Aziraphale hopes he doesn’t notice his absence.

Perhaps he has taken another nap.

***

“Where were you?” Aziraphale gets startled when he hears Crowley’s voice the moment he walks into the bookshop. “Are you okay?”

He also doesn’t expect the demon to close the distance between them and take his face in his hands.

“I’m f-fine…” He mumbles, trying not to look into Crowley’s eyes, he’s not wearing his shades at the moment and Aziraphale can see the concern in them.

“Where were you?” The demon repeats, looking irritated this time. “I couldn’t find you… You shouldn't–I thought Hastur had taken you…”

Aziraphale takes a step back, feeling nervous; he supposes Anathema’s house has protection around it for evil entities not to find it, but he’s not sure those protection will work every single time.

“I just needed to be alone for a while,” he mumbles.

Suddenly, Crowley frowns, miracles a bottle of wine and sits on the couch.

“Alone…” He repeats, still narrowing his eyes.

“My friend used to–”

“Oh! Your angel friend! How could I forget?” Crowley interrupts, looking more irritated. “Well… He’s not here, is he? You’re a Fallen now, he’s not your friend anymore. Perhaps he doesn’t even remem–”

“Shut up!” Aziraphale growls, tears in his eyes. He doesn’t want to think about Raphael, not right now… It’s really too much for him. He’s still weak because of the potion and he certainly doesn’t want to cry in front of Crowley.

The demon notices the tears and a shadow of regret falls on his eyes.

“I’m sorry, angel. I didn’t mean it.”

Aziraphale shakes his head and turns around; he’s decided to focus on rearranging the shelves to distract himself.

He gets closer to the window and flinches away when he sees the same demon that hurt him when he was in Hell.

“Crowley, the other demons…”

Before he can finish, Crowley is looking through the window, glaring at the two demonic entities. He turns around, touches Aziraphale’s cheek gently and mumbles:

“Wait for me here. I’ll be right back.”

He nods, not sure he’s ready to face those two again now that he’s weak and tired.

Fortunately, they seem to have come to deliver a message that doesn’t last too long.

When he comes back, Aziraphale is not prepared for what he says.

“There’s just two years left for Armageddon,” Crowley announces, not looking really pleased at the idea. “They want me to keep an eye on Warlock to make sure everything goes according to plan.”

“The Antichrist?”

A mischievous grin quirks up the corners of Crowley’s lips.

“Well, they think he is. But he’s just a normal kid. The real Antichrist lives in Tadfield. And we’re going to see him.”

“You changed the babies?” Aziraphale looks back at him in surprised, only to chuckle a few seconds later. Crowley looks really pleased with himself. “Why?”

“Just because…” the demon mumbles, although Aziraphale knows there’s something else.

But it’s alright really… It makes a lot easier for him to come up with a plan to stop Armageddon, he wonders if he should tell Crowley about it.

Perhaps not at the moment, Aziraphale is not quite sure he should trust him.


	4. Chapter 4

Tadfield is a nice and quiet place; of course the ride in the Bentley gave Aziraphale one of those things humans call _heart attacks_ , because Crowley was driving like a demon.

After Crowley parks close to the Antichrist’s house, they decide to take a walk around the place.

Aziraphale gets suddenly overwhelmed by a wave of love he feels all over the place; it’s warm and so nice it makes him stop for a moment.

“What is it? Are you alright?” Crowley stops as well, getting closer to him and taking his face in his hands like he has done before. Aziraphale hadn’t realized he had taken the demon’s arm.

“I’m fine, sorry… It’s just–It’s a nice place,” Aziraphale can’t mention what just happened because demons cannot feel love.

“It is,” Crowley agrees, still looking at Aziraphale with concern.

Supernatural beings have the ability to walk unnoticed by humans, which is really convenient when your purpose is to stalk a little boy.

His name is Adam and Aziraphale realizes really soon why he loves this place so much: he has loving parents and amazing friends who follow him everywhere.

It makes Aziraphale feel protective of him. Why he can’t decide what to do with his life? The fact that he’s the Antichrist doesn’t mean anything. He can feel good inside him. He’s kind and he’s happy.

Adam shouldn’t have to carry with such responsibility. The end the world… No, he can’t; Aziraphale knows the boy loves the world, his world at least, but that’s something.

That has to be enough.

Aziraphale doesn’t want humanity to end; Raphael wouldn’t want that either.

But what does Crowley want? He’s a demon, he probably wants the Armageddon to happen, right? But why did he–

“Why did you lie to the others?” Aziraphale asks again. “Why did you swap the children?”

Crowley smirks at him; in his eyes there’s a familiar glimmer that makes Aziraphale’s heart beat like crazy inside his chest.

The demon takes a step closer and takes both his hands in his.

“I want to stop the end of the world,” he mumbles. “Would you help me?”

“Yes!” Aziraphale can’t help but beam at him. He shouldn’t trust a demon, but Crowley has been helping him a lot and he definitely doesn’t want to try to stop everything by himself.

Raphael would be so proud.

“So… What is your pl–” Aziraphale goes completely quiet as soon as he feels lips against his; for a moment he forgets everything else and enjoys being kissed with such passion…

But then he remembers he’s not actually a Fallen and he also remembers… Raphael.

It’s like he’s betraying him…

Aziraphale pushes Crowley away, gently and almost regretting doing it when he sees the way the demon flinches like he has been burnt.

“I’m sorry… I should’ve asked first… I–”

“Don’t worry,” Aziraphale mumbles, looking away. “Just… I think we shouldn’t do that again.”

“We’re both demons, there’s nothing wrong, at least we can–”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Aziraphale insists and hates to see the tension on Crowley’s shoulders; he can’t see his eyes because of the shades, but he knows something’s wrong.

He’s frozen, at least until he finally gets to nod, almost painfully.

“Right… Let’s just forget about it. We need to focus on what we’re going to do about Adam anyway.” Crowley whispers before turning around; he keeps walking, Aziraphale decides to give him some space.

He feels so bad about what just happened; like the kind of thing a person feels when they make a mistake.

***

“He seems like a good kid already,” Aziraphale smiles fondly, watching as all the children are playing together. They have their own place in the middle of the woods to do it.

“Perhaps he needs a little bit of a bad influence then,” Crowley mumbles to himself, but Aziraphale hears anyway and narrows his eyes.

“Bad influence? We want him to stay as far away from bad influences!” He says and notices that even after that, Crowley doesn’t even try to look at him.

“Balance!” He says. “We need him to be a normal kid!”

“He seems pretty normal to me already,” Aziraphale mumbles and he means it. If Crowley hadn’t told him he was the Antichrist, he wouldn’t have guessed it was him.

Adam looks pretty normal to him; except maybe for the love energy that surrounds the place and it seems like it’s coming from him.

Crowley sighs and he just knows that the demon just rolled his eyes, even though he has his back turned.

“We should keep an eye on him at least,” he finally says.

“That’s an excellent idea, but Crowley–”

“We should live here for a while,” the demon cuts him off. “Meet the people around so the kids can trust us.”

“Do you think they will trust us?” Aziraphale looks around; they’re quiet people and he has the feeling they don’t like strangers so much. Of course, they could just make them trust them, but he wouldn’t like to use a miracle for that.

“Perhaps the people here wouldn’t trust a single man, especially because the objective is to be friends with Adam and the other kids,” Crowley explains and turns around with a smirk on his face. “But a lovely couple…”

“What couple?”

Crowley’s smirk only becomes wider.

***

Aziraphale is still thinking about what happened when he gets to the bookshop; they haven’t actually moved to Tadfield yet but it seems it’s going to be necessary in order to keep an eye on Adam.

Although he doesn’t know what to think about what Crowley proposed; living with him is going to be difficult enough without having to pretend to be a couple. So far the portion has worked perfectly, but he doesn’t want to risk Crowley finding out he’s not actually a fallen.

If he is completely honest with himself though, he’s not so worried about Crowley telling the others, but him getting upset because Aziraphale lied to him.

He has a serious problem; he shouldn’t worry about the demon’s feelings that much.

Because that’d mean he cares about him.

“Hello, Aziraphale!” He almost flinches when he recognizes the voice; he has felt his presence but was too distracted thinking about Crowley to react on time.

Speaking of Crowley, Aziraphale is glad the demon is in his flat, getting everything “ready” before they move to Tadfield. Otherwise he would’ve hissed at Gabriel.

It would have been a disaster.

“I see you’re doing well,” the Archangel mumbles, smirking for some reason; Aziraphale has never liked that expression on him.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Aziraphale whispers, shutting the door with a snap of his fingers. “Someone can see you…”

“If by someone you mean the demon that’s always following you around,” Gabriel narrows his eyes, irritated. “I can always destroy him and get rid of the problem. It’s just a demon, one less in the world is defini–”

“They would wonder why you destroyed him and not me,” Aziraphale says, trying to sound as calm as possible, but the truth is that he’s afraid and also completely furious. He wants nothing more than to punch that Archangel in the face. “I cannot–We can’t risk me getting caught.”

“I guess you’re right,” Gabriel says reluctantly. “Have you gotten any information on the Antichrist yet?”

“Everything is going according to the plan,” Aziraphale nods and adds another lie: “He’s in America at the moment.”

“Perfect!” Gabriel grins, excitement glimmering in his eyes. “We’ll also win the war this time, Aziraphale.”

“Of course,” he smiles back. “I can’t wait.”

“Me either,” Gabriel agrees, before touching his shoulder. “I’ll be close if you need me.”

Raphael would have hated this as much as Aziraphale does. Now he’s not sure how he’s going to keep an eye on Adam without Gabriel noticing.

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my tumblr for more fics: https://silverynight.tumblr.com/


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